Crazy Catholic Question #21: Life to the Full

Why is “community building” stressed so much in our faith?  I think my spiritual life is a very intimate, private thing between me and God.

One morning a few years back on my way to work, I was on the service drive of I-75 because there was a mess of construction and traffic on the expressway.  I was passing through a very over developed area; there wasn’t a park or even a significant bunch of trees around within miles – it was all strip malls and asphalt.

While painfully creeping in traffic I noticed out of my passenger window , standing elegantly, not even 20 feet from the street, next to an over-filled dumpster in the parking lot of a convenience store was this beautiful deer, breathing in the fumes from all the traffic and eating the little tuffs of dusty grass that were struggling to break through the cracks in the concrete.

The vision of this deer arrested me.  I did a little double-take because it was so out of place.  I thought to myself, ‘I bet that deer doesn’t have long to live before she runs into traffic or simply gets sick from the limited, dirty food and stress she is enduring due to living in such an urban area.’  The deer was surviving, but not living the life for which she was created.  She was not living the optimal life of a deer.  Not living as God intended.

So it is I think sometimes with us.  We are not living optimally as human beings.  We are surviving but not living as we were designed to live.  And, like that deer, we are relatively unaware of how deprived we really are;  we don’t really see how our choices and culture sometimes rob us of the rich life that God has intended for each of us.

In the book Bowling Alone, author Robert Putnam states that social bonds are by far the most powerful predictor of life satisfaction and a surprising predictor of personal health.  If you both smoke and belong to no groups, it’s a close call as to which is the riskier behavior!  He goes on to note the fact that there are more bowlers today, but fewer bowling leagues, because everybody is bowling alone. 

Putnam asserts that we are paying a heavy price for the loss of what he calls “social capital” which is the life-giving product of communal activity and sharing.  Clinically measured depression has increased ten-fold in our country over the past 50 years, and although the origins of this epidemic are not yet clear, the prime candidate is social isolation.  The loss of social capital is reflected in higher crime rates, a weakened democracy, lower educational performance, more teen pregnancies and incidents of suicide.  We live so alone today.  We have taken individualism to such an extreme, we hardly know how to define ourselves as parts of something larger any more.  So, perhaps Jesus understood our nature better than we do, knew our tendency to isolate in the face of (inevitable) conflict and therefore established as our central ritual gathering in his name each week for a meal…for reconciliation…for mutual support.  Maybe he knew that the greatest remedy for our suffering is togetherness; in other words, gathering to “BE church.”

We Catholics define “sin” as anything that distances us from God’s love and mercy and separates us from one another.  In a word, sin is alienation.  God does not indiscriminately declare ‘this and that’ as a sin in an effort to limit our freedom, to exercise control over us or test our fidelity.    Rather sin is simply what is bad for US.   Like any good parent, God wishes for us to have life to the full.  But, maybe our fierce individualism, even in our spiritual lives, is simply not good for us.  It is not the life for which we were designed.   A possibility to consider…

Crazy Catholic Question #20: Intinction

Why do Catholics drink from the chalice instead of dipping the host in the wine or using individual cups, especially this time of year when colds and flu seem to be everywhere?

Intinction (dipping the bread into the wine) IS actually practiced at some Catholic parishes, coincidently enough at the parish I worked and worshipped at for the past 16 years just before coming to CTR!   So, though I’m not a learned liturgist like Fr. Joe, if experience counts, this question is right in my wheelhouse.

Like any public meeting place, there is a very real possibility of encountering germs at church, especially during flu season, so drinking from the shared cup understandably seems a risky choice.  But studies show that intinction actually increases the risk of spreading germs.  The minute we hold the wafer in our hand it becomes full of germs, and then if we dip it - the wine becomes contaminated too.   

Hands are a much more likely source of contagion than the mouth especially among children and, trust me, lots of little germy fingertips make it into the wine in the practice of intinction!  So, it may seem counter-intuitive, but the research is pretty clear; intinction is far less sanitary then drinking directly from a common cup.

What concerned me most though about the practice of intinction is how it made visitors and new people feel, especially younger Catholics.  A remarkable number of the college students who visited our parish told me they felt like outsiders because they were confused about what to do at communion time.  And a surprising number of them also were aware and quite scandalized that this practice was not in line with our own Catholic rubrics found in the General Instruction of the Roman Missal which says, "When Communion is distributed under both species by intinction, the host is not placed in the hands of the communicants nor may the communicant receive the host and dip it into the chalice."  (really, of all the things to know?)

I’m not a big “rules and regs enforcer” kind of gal, but since so much of our Catholic identity (again, especially for younger Catholics these days…not in the 60’s…and maybe not in the future…but certainly at this time) is connected to our sacraments and rituals, making choices that stick to the norm and foster connectedness and unity by minimizing the confusion that can come from everyone “doing his or her own thing” seems to make sense and support the deeper meaning of our shared Eucharist.  The hope of all our rubrics and rites is that they may help promote a profound and valuable sense of unity.

As St. Paul says when talking about eating meat sacrificed to idols (which was apparently the hot topic “rubric” type question in the city of Corinth of his day) “Everything is lawful for me!  But not everything is beneficial. I have the right to do anything, but not everything is constructive. No one should seek their own good, but the good of others.”  Even though there is nothing inherently immoral in eating meat sacrificed to idols (or practicing intinction in our case) if it scandalizes or alienates even a few members of our community, Paul says it’s just not worth it.  

Almost all Roman Catholic liturgists today discourage Communion by intinction. The health risks increase with dipping into the cup, some people become confused and feel like outsiders when we stray from our set rubrics, and the sign value and adherence to scripture in intinction is not as full as drinking from the cup (and completely lost with individual cups).  

Fr. Joe commented though, “If Jesus had been a 20th century American we certainly would not have had the common cup!

Crazy Catholic Question #19: Failure

I pray and pray for strength and determination, but have failed at every one of my New Year’s resolutions so far…whyyyyyyy?

We live in a culture that idolizes success, holds up the “winners” in life and scorns the “losers.”   We have become skillful self-promoters dangerously adept at selling ourselves, even to the point of deceiving ourselves sometimes.  We define ourselves by our accomplishments; our ability to deliver, our perfect performance.  We have bought into the myth, sometimes unconsciously, that “success saves.” 

One of my favorite books of all time is Maria Boulding’s Gateway to Hope: An Exploration of Failure. In it, she extols the odd, counter-cultural truth that God doesn’t love us despite of our faults and failures, but rather in and through them we are being emptied, being broke open and brought into deeper intimacy with God and one another. God works in and through our failure to bring about the kingdom! Our faults force us to shed our self-sufficiency and masks of perfection and accept redemption, knowing that we have not earned it by our accomplishments. Our weakness cultivates a deeper vulnerability, compassion and acceptance towards others – the very hallmarks of a follower of Jesus. In the spiritual life, our failures are often much more valuable than our successes. Consider Jesus. He was most successful at the very moment that he experienced his deepest failure and suffering. This is the paradox that we Christians know in our bones. It is the very mystery of God that we are invited to live out…

There is something very sacred to be found in our brokenness.   Accomplishments, failures, successes, embarrassments - no matter; we are but instruments.  A story….
A water bearer in India had two large pots, each hung on one end of the pole he carried across the back of his neck. One of the pots had a crack in it, and while the other pot was perfect and always delivered a full portion of water at the end of the long walk from the stream, the cracked pot arrived only half full.

The perfect pot was proud of its accomplishment and saw itself as succeeding for purpose for which it was made. But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its imperfection and miserable that it was able to accomplish only half of what it had been made to do. After two years of what it perceived as bitter failure, it spoke to the water bearer one day by the stream. “I am ashamed of myself and I want to apologize to you. For the past two years, I have been able to deliver only half my load because of this crack in my side.  Because of my flaws you have to work without getting the full value of your efforts.”

The water bearer said, “As we return to the master’s house, I want you to notice the beautiful flowers along the path.”  As they went up the hill, the old cracked pot noticed the beautiful wildflowers on the side of the path. The pot felt cheered, but at the end of the trail, again apologized for its failure.  The bearer said to the pot, “Did you notice that there were flowers only on your side of your path, but not on the other pot’s side?  That’s because I knew about your flaw and took advantage of it. I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we walk back from the stream, you’ve watered them for me. For two years I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate my master’s table. If you were not just the way you are, he would not have such beauty to grace his house.

Crazy Catholic Question #18: Mary

I have a friend who attends a “non-denominational” Christian Church who says that Catholics worship and pray to Mary and that this practice is in serious violation of the first commandment.  Is this true?

No other Christian tradition holds Mary in a more central role than we Roman Catholics do.  We not only have the most theological doctrines and teachings that relate to Mary, but we also have the lion’s share of festivals, prayers, and devotional practices…much more than any other denomination.  For us, devotion to the Blessed Mother is intrinsic to Christian worship.

But something that may surprise many of our Protestant brothers and sisters, and maybe even some cradle Catholics, is that although we honor and venerate Mary, we do not worship her.   We revere Mary as the Mother of Jesus, the “Theotokos,” or “God-bearer” since Mary served as the entrance way of the divine into our world, but we do not consider her another “God.”   We do not “pray TO” Mary but rather we ask Mary to pray WITH us.  We petition Mary to “pray for us” just as we would ask any other friend to pray for us.  

Catholic teaching makes clear that Mary is not considered divine and our prayers are not answered by her; they are answered by God.   However, our shared experience over the centuries has firmly established her to be a powerful ally and intercessor for our prayers.  I’m reminded of this every time someone asks my Dad to pray for a really serious and dire request and he says “Welp, looks like it’s time to bring out the Big Guns!” and he pulls out his rosary from his pocket Clint Eastwood style (what a ham).

I didn’t have a strong Marian devotion growing up.   I just didn’t “get it” and my lack of connection with Mary really made me feel like a fraudulent Catholic!  I once asked my Dad, “What’s wrong with me?  Why do I have so little interest in Mary?” and he wisely said “Daughter, you are thinking too much - God will give you snow tires when you are in the snow!”   

The “deep snow” came to me just after I had my first child and was struggling with some grim post-partum darkness and was feeling seriously unprepared for the job.   Mary’s companionship at this critical time in my life reminds me of the story of the famous theologian Edward Shillebeeckz who joined the Domincans at a very young age.  During his youthful first fervor he would get up every day at 2AM to pray with his community.  During this lovely, monastic rising in the wee hours, apart from the noise and busyness of the world, he felt incredibly close to God. 

In his enthusiasm he wrote to his father “How wonderful it feels to be praising God when all the world around me is asleep and I and my fellow seminarians are giving glory to God!”  His father wrote back that he was glad that his son appreciated his new monastic life, but he should remember that when he was an infant (for he was one of 13 children) his parents too were often up at 2AM and yes, they too were giving glory to God, although they weren’t quite singing the psalms.  The father went on to say “It is in the everydayness of life that we uncover God, even if we do not realize it at the time.”

Like us, Mary lived in this “everydayness of life” with all its joys and sorrows and as a revered member of our communion of saints she continues to journey with us in a special way and prays for us when we call for help, like any good parent does. 

Mother Teresa said "If you ever feel distressed during your day — call upon our Lady — just say this simple prayer: 'Mary, Mother of Jesus, please be a mother to me now.' I must admit — this prayer has never failed me."

Crazy Catholic Question #17: Conflict

I pray and pray for my family and still we have so many conflicts and struggle to get along.  Where is God in all this?

This weekend we celebrate the feast of the Holy Family.  Mary, Jesus and Joseph come to mind when we think of a “Holy” family, especially during this Christmas season.  It is unlikely that in the wake of this month of non-stop holiday gatherings, weary from this intense season of interaction, that “Holy” would be the first word to roll off our tongues when talking about our own families though.  

Our families are much too dysfunctional, tense and fraught with conflict to be truly “Holy,” right?  We are convinced that that Jesus was misquoted.  Surely, he must have said "where two or more are gathered in my name, there's bound to be an argument!"   And yet our tradition insists that our families, our relationships, are the primary place of God’s activity in the world.  

Many of us have grown up with the notion that disagreements are failures. But nothing could be further from the truth.   Disagreements are inevitable.  It’s really not a question of IF conflict will arise, but WHEN.   As Pope Francis has been reminding us lately - frank, honest dialogue, especially on difficult subjects is essential to personal and communal growth; like resistant strength training – no pain no gain.

It is in and through our conflicts that we uncomfortably receive God’s grace and revelation and cultivate a deeper intimacy and true communion with one another.   God’s revelation is rarely discovered in isolation, and revelation in community can be painful, like putting a bunch of jagged rocks into a burlap bag and shaking them for 5, 10, 20, 50 years.  Through ‘rubbing each other wrong’ our jagged edges become smooth; we become well-rounded people.  We have insights we could never have achieved independently.

God is present and working with great intensity in our conflicts.  Our goal is to resolve disagreements in such a way that the relationship is stronger afterwards than it was before.  As the body of Christ, we are called to be a model of this process.    As tough, tricky, and emotionally draining as resolving conflict maybe, reconciliation is not an option, but an imperative for Jesus’ followers; it is the very heart of the paschal mystery.  The easy-outs of seclusion, individualism and indifference are the opposite of Jesus’ vision for our world. 

More and more I find myself dreading the moment when I’m at my kid’s school, the doctor’s office, or in line at the grocery store and the person I’m talking to finds out that I’m a minister and feels compelled, in what I sometimes sense is a feeble effort to disguise their criticism, to explain to me that he or she is “spiritual but not religious.”   This is often said in such a way that implies that they grasp some daring insight that we church-going simpletons have yet to discover.  

Quite frankly, I don’t find being privately, independently, “spiritual but not religious” very impressive.  There is nothing particularly challenging about that choice.

What I find heroic is doggedly doing this work in community, where other people might call you out on stuff and we are called to sacrifice a little bit of this or that for the good of all.  Our saints tell us that real spiritual growth and insight arrive more often through our arduous, energy-sapping work of lovingly resolving our disagreements than by throwing up our hands and resigning to pray in isolation. 

I admire people who hope in the communion of saints and who are brave enough (or perhaps stubborn enough), to believe that God is best encountered in a real human community and audacious enough to believe that in our life together we are surreptitiously building the kingdom of God, one challenging relationship at a time. 

Crazy Catholic Question #16: Christmas

I pray just fine at home. Why do I have to come to Church?

Well, frankly, you don’t have to come to church. Odds are you haven’t been to Mass in quite awhile and you have managed to survive…even thrive. You love and care for your friends and family, you pray, you give to your favorite charities, you recycle & vote. You are a good, compassionate person who works hard and likes to sleep in on Sunday. Or perhaps you are a parent of a bunch of little people who is weary of the struggle to get all your reluctant family members dressed and out the door only to end up spending half the Mass comforting or chasing your child in the vestibule which makes the whole effort seem rather futile. The more pointed question might be “Why go to Mass at all?” What is the value and gain of being here each week?

Personally, I think the onus to answer that question is on us. We (the community here at Christ the Redeemer) need to communicate the value of “hanging-your-hat” with us and why we believe that working and praying together is more effective and closer to Jesus’ dream for our world than operating individually. But, words can only take us so far...

See, the thing about the Sacraments and the experience of Christian community is that you can’t really explain them…or read about them. Explaining Eucharist or Communion is like trying to explain or put into words what a deep, long kiss is like. The metaphysics of a kiss sound strange and maybe even a little bit gross, but when you experience it firsthand there is no denying its beauty and power. So too with coming to Mass. It is an experience that slowly transforms us, but it’s not something easily put into words or something we can truly grasp the full significance of by reading or praying about it quietly, alone at home.

Author Rev. Nadia Bolz-Weber points out that when Jesus said “where two or more are gathered in my name I am with you” it wasn’t because he was some kind of diva who needed a guaranteed minimum audience before showing up. Rather it means that God is to be found in our relationships and in the way we hold each other up in the faith in tough times and even sometimes in our conflicts and struggles. From the very beginning, faith has always been a team sport. And maybe that is because there are some things about ourselves, God and life that we simply cannot learn on our own, but need to be part of a community to discover.

If your experience of Mass here this Christmas has in anyway touched on a faint but rather persistent longing you have been aware of lately, and you suspect that this longing may be “of God,” we want to heartily invite you to come pray with us again. If you have been away for a long while, no worries, we all have gaps here and there. None of us are ever “behind” in our spiritual lives. We are exactly where God intends us to be. We will all be richer for your presence. (Bonus: We offer great childcare during Mass and tasty and plentiful donuts after Mass, and having three kids myself, I know the power and enticement of ‘the donut’ for the kiddos!)

We are offering an informal “Welcome” presentation after Mass on Sunday, Jan. 4th at 12:15pm (childcare provided) for those of you kicking around the idea of reconnecting. We will offer a very brief overview of our CTR theology and vision of what we think “being” church to one another looks like and we would very much like to hear what we can do to make your time with us meaningful and lasting. We can also answer any questions you may have about getting your kids “caught up” on all the sacraments, etc.

I write this little “Crazy Catholic Question” article for the bulletin each week, so please consider submitting a question of your own! There are no topics that are off-limits or questions too scandalous to ask. If you would like to browse my fledging blog please visit crazycatholicquestions.blogspot.com.

I sincerely hope you and your family enjoy the rest of this holy season. Without exception, your ideas, good-spirit and unique theological point of view are valued and very welcome here.

Merry Christmas,
Lisa Brown,
Director of Religious Education/Office of Family Ministry, dre@ctredeemer.org

#15: Relatives to church?

How can I get my relatives to come to church? Well, frankly, we can’t.  We have no control over the choices our adult relatives make and the more we push, the more likely they are to pull away.  But we are not powerless either…

During Advent we ponder the mystery of the Incarnation.  We believe that, in Jesus, God came to be with us right here in our history and is still alive and living with us now, gathering a community, the Body of Christ, to transform the world with the love that he embodied. 

Fr. Ron Rolheiser points out that when we say that we are "the Body of Christ" it is not an exaggeration or a metaphor.  Our scriptures do not say "we represent" or "replace" or "symbolize" Jesus, they just say "We ARE the body of Christ."  The incarnation is not something that happened long ago, but rather continues in us right at this moment.  A story…

There was a woman who, in the midst of great suffering, wanders into her empty church, sits down, closes her eyes and fervently prays, “God, I am in great pain and I need to know you are with me.  I know I’m not supposed to ask for miracles or signs, but I’m at the end of my rope.  Please, I beg of you, give me a sign of your presence.”

And she keeps repeating this last line, “Please, I need a sign of your presence.”  She waits a long while, eyes closed tight, and all of a sudden she feels a hand on her shoulder!  Her stomach flips and for a moment she is paralyzed.  Could it be that God is actually touching her shoulder as a sign of support?!?

She slowly turns and sees behind her one of her friends.  The woman can’t hide her disappointment.  Her friend says, “You seem distressed, can I help you in anyway?”  The woman explains how she thought her friend was God touching her on the shoulder, and her friend asks “But, what hand did you think God would use?”

St. Theresa of Avila writes:Christ has no body now but yours,No hands, no feet, on earth but yours.Yours are the eyes through which He looks compassion on this world.Yours are the feet with which He walks to do good.Your are the hands with which He blesses all the world.Christ has no body now on earth but yours.

Fr. Rolheiser says “We all have relatives and friends who don’t come to Mass with us anymore.  They have been hurt or feel unaccepted and we pray for them, but we also do much more.   If our touch is Christ’s touch, then by loving and forgiving our alienated friends and relatives, in so far as they receive love and forgiveness from us, they are receiving love and forgiveness from God. 

Not unlike the woman who touched the hem of Jesus’ garment and was healed from 11 years of sickness, WE are the hem of Jesus’ garment for others, connecting them to the body of Christ. 

Maybe your child no longer goes to church, no longer prays, no longer respects your faith and is openly agnostic or atheistic. What can you do?

You can continue to pray for them and live out your own faith, hoping that your example will have power where your words are ineffectual. But you can do even more.
You can continue to love and embrace them and insofar as they receive that love and forgiveness from you, they are receiving love and forgiveness from God!  Since you are part of the Body of Christ, when you love them Christ is loving them.

Part of the wonder of the incarnation is the astonishing fact that we can do for each other what Jesus did for us!  Our love and forgiveness are the cords that connect our loved ones to God, to salvation, and to the community of saints, even when they are no longer walking the path of explicit faith.”